Sunday, July 25, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
Flash Fiction Friday - Damsel in Distress
1
Cramped and trembling, aching with need, she had been there for three days. No food, only a few swallows of water, and her mind was breaking down on her. No one was coming. She might as well give up.
Then she heard the footsteps, not the harsh stamp of her tormentors but a rushing, impetuous flight that carried him through the door. No words; he cried out in grief, pulling at the knots, then slashing the ropes, releasing her with a snap. She moaned as freedom brought harsh pain.
"They will pay for this," he growled, stroking her hair. "They will pay."
Or perhaps you'd prefer this:
2
Cramped and trembling, aching with need, she had been there for three days. Three days waiting, watching the guards, planning her move. No one was coming, and that was just the way she wanted it.
Fools think that ropes guarantee a bound prisoner. Her nails were sharp enough to cut the flimsy cord, and on the morning of the fourth day, when the bored guard brought water, he found himself fighting for his life against a naked, angry woman. "Where is Marcel?" she growled, his gun in her hands. When he didn't respond, she shrugged and shot him. "Marcel. I'm coming for you."
Or perhaps:
3
Cramped and trembling, aching with need, she had been there for three days. Or was it minutes. "Honey, seriously, this really chafes."
"You promised you'd try it," he replied, sitting there desperately polishing his meat trumpet. "I just don't think I can get it up any other way."
"You like looking at me like this?"
"I thought I would."
She shifted uncomfortably. "Baby, you know I'll try anything for you, but it's really no fun for me." Then her eyes glinted in a flash of insight. "Why don't we tie you up instead?"
Ten minutes later, she was pregnant.
I am really not trying to show off. I wrote them in the order above. First, I wrote one which was dramatic but didn't exactly make me feel all liberated-woman about it. So I decided to subvert the trope and write the second one. And in doing that, I realized that I had written two things which could well have led to something sexy, only they were too short to get there. Plus, I like a bit of comedy. So I wrote the third. If I were going to be really pretentious, I might say that the triad was a perfect expression of the classic thesis-antithesis-synthesis. But I've actually said that as an excuse to tell my favoritest Erisian joke ever: "Thesis-antithesis-sythesis-parenthesis-paralysis." If you didn't get that, don't worry.
Now I have very little energy left over to entice you to join the fun and Flash Fiction Friday yourself all night long. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, and so all I can say is that you really should, because if you don't, I can't guarantee your safety. But since I can't guarantee your safety anyway, you do what you like.
Do not expect three from me every week. Please don't, because then I'll be trapped in the "living up to unrealistic expectations" Hell that my life tends to become.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Filler Trivia
Okay, I saw this, theft was encouraged, and since I don't mind answering questions, even inane ones, I've decided to answer these. I saw it on Beryl's blog, but it came from someone else, and so on and so on. It's long, but what the hell.
1. First thing you wash in the shower?
If I'm just taking a shower, with no funny business involved, I tend to wash between my legs first. I don't know why, but I've always done it that way. There's probably something that can be gotten out of that, but I don't know what it means.
2. What color is your favorite hoodie?
I don't wear hoodies. Never have. I prefer hats.
3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
Absolutely. It was either Sveta or one of my parents, so I'm totally safe in saying that.
4. Do you plan outfits?
Sometimes. If I need to wear black, obviously, or if I'm trying to coordinate. But not often.
5. How are you feeling RIGHT now?
Achy.
6. What's the closest thing to you that's red?
My picture on the computer screen, probably.
7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having?
I've had some wild dreams, but I don't tend to remember anything more than a vague impression of them being wild. I don't mean wild enjoyable either, I just mean crazy.
8. Did you meet anybody new today?
Nope. I could say that about most days.
9. What are you craving right now?
An apple-filled donut, which I don't seem to be able to get for love or money in this town.
10. Do you floss?
Not often enough.
11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?
Kimchi. Absolutely my favorite thing which sounds like it should be really disgusting but is really great.
12. Are you emotional?
Fairly. I try to keep it under control in everyday life, but I'm not always successful.
13. Have you ever counted to 1,000?
I had to write out all the numbers from 1 to 1000 once as a punishment.
14. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it?
Bite, which makes my teeth hurt, which is part of the reason I don't like ice cream cones. I prefer to eat it with a spoon, and even then, I'm not a huge fan of ice cream. Give me the stuff that goes along with ice cream any day. Brownies, fudge, cookies, pie... yeah, all better without ice cream making them all soggy.
15. Do you like your hair?
I am fond of my hair, justifiably I believe. Not that there's nothing I would change if I had a genie who could only grant hair-related wishes, but I'm satisfied with it for the most part.
16. Do you like yourself?
If I met me on a street corner, I would probably run in the opposite direction. I don't know whether I like myself or not sometimes.
17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?
Probably not. If he invited me, I'd probably decline in protest or something similarly idealistic. On the other hand, I might. I don't like his policies or his philosophy, such as it is, but I might go out to eat with him just so I could fling my drink in his face at a dramatic point.
18. What are you listening to right now?
At the exact moment I'm writing this, nothing. My brain is always playing music for me though.
19. Are your parents strict?
Depends on your definition. In some ways, definitely. They were not permissive about many things. I didn't get my driver's license until I was way older than my peers, my parents didn't let me have booze under age, or throw wild parties, and I was always supposed to be supervised when they were out of the house. In other ways, of course, no, but there are reasons for that.
20. Would you go sky diving?
It'd be hard. I'm not a fan of heights and I don't know if I could bring myself to jump. Actually, I'm also not a fan of planes, so getting up there would be tough too. But I do love the idea of flight. It'd be hard.
21. Do you like cottage cheese?
Not really. It's like ricotta, which I also don't like.
22. Have you ever met a celebrity?
A few minor ones. No one worth mentioning.
23. Do you rent movies often?
I don't rent, I take out from the library, but I do that frequently, yes.
24. Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in?
No, not that I can see.
25. How many countries have you visited?
Just the one I'm in right now.
26. Have you made a prank phone call?
Oddly enough, I don't think so. It never struck me as being all that funny when I was a kid, or maybe it's the parental strictness thing. I don't like phones anyway.
27. Ever been on a train?
Many times. I like trains; they're a fun way to travel.
28. Brown or white eggs?
Who gives a fuck?
29. Do you have a cell-phone?
Nope. Occasionally I wish I had one, but not enough to warrant paying for it.
30. Do you use Chap Stick?
Regularly. Got to protect those lips.
31. Do you own a gun?
I own a pellet gun. If I wanted a gun, I could easily get one from family sources, and I've fired guns many times, but I don't want to own one. Target practice is fun, but guns are dangerous. I'd love to get back to the shooting range again sometime.
32. Can you use chop sticks?
Maybe not like a native, but I can eat reasonably well with them, including rice and noodles, the bane of the chop stick beginner.
33. Who are you going to be with tonight?
Nobody. I'm so alone.
34. Are you too forgiving?
The question raises an interesting philosophical point, which is whether or not it is possible to be too forgiving. Does forgiveness get me into trouble? Yes. Does it sometimes cause me to question myself when that isn't needed? Definitely. But is forgiveness ever bad? I would say no, forgiveness is never bad. Forgiveness doesn't imply absolution, just that you do not harbor hate in your heart for someone because of something they've done. Universal forgiveness is a saintly quality I can't even hope to achieve. I forgive people as often as I can, but that doesn't mean I trust them ever again or that I take them back. And then there are a few people whom I don't think I can ever forgive. My cross to bear, that.
35. Ever been in love?
Absolutely. Still am.
36. What is your best friend(s) doing tomorrow (or the next soonest week day)?
Working, probably.
37. Ever have cream puffs?
Yes. I didn't care for them.
38. Last time you cried?
There was a sappy moment in a show I was watching yesterday which made me tear up. But for really crying, you'd have to go back to last week when I was having a bad day.
39. What was the last question you asked?
Hell, I don't know. I'm answering questions here, not asking them.
40. Favorite time of the year?
That's a tough call. I like certain things about all times of year. Possibly winter because I prefer cold, but I like being able to go outside without bundling up like a polar explorer too.
41. Do you have any tattoos?
No. I might someday get one if I nut up and get over my fear of needles and tattoo parlors. But probably not. Maybe I'll let Sheri talk me into getting one one of these days.
42. Are you sarcastic?
I've never been asked that question before, let me tell you.
43. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?
No. Not really ever something I wanted to see.
44. Ever walked into a wall?
Yes. All the time, actually.
45. Favorite color?
I like black, red, and purple. Dark colors.
46. Have you ever slapped someone?
Oh yeah.
47. Is your hair curly?
In humid weather, it gets curl and body, but I don't know if I'd qualify it as curly.
48. What was the last CD you bought?
One of Chevelle's albums, I believe Sci-Fi Crimes. I have bad taste in music, I'm afraid.
49. Do looks matter?
I won't lie. Yes, they matter. But not enough. Looks can make a good thing better, or make a good thing easier to approach and become acquainted with, but in the end, it's not the looks that keep, it's the rest of it. I've fucked a fair number of good-looking people, but I didn't stay with them because they weren't anything but good-looking. I'm shallow on the surface, I guess.
50. Could you ever forgive a cheater?
Depends. It helps if a cheater asks for forgiveness. If they don't ask, then probably not. Beyond that, it's a matter of what kind of cheating. In some relationships, cheating is an emotional thing, not a physical one. I find it fairly easy to forgive physical cheating, although again, forgiveness simply means I don't hold it against them any more, not that I want them back. Emotional cheating is harder to forgive.
51. Is your phone bill sky high?
Only because the base charges are ridiculous. I rarely use the phone.
52. Do you like your life right now?
Not tremendously in some ways. In others, it's great.
53. Do you sleep with the TV on?
I wish I could, because that's a really good way for me to fall asleep. But I don't have a TV near my bed.
54. Can you handle the truth?
If I say yes, then I'm lying. But if I say no, then I can obviously handle the truth, so I'm still lying. What sort of truth are we talking about here?
55. Do you have good vision?
I might someday need glasses for reading, but my vision is pretty good at present.
56. Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people?
Yes. Most people I hate are impersonal to me, not people I actually know. Impersonal hate is fine. Personal hate, on the other hand, is poison, but I think I might still dislike more than three people I know personally enough to fulfill the requirements of this question.
57. How often do you talk on the phone?
As infrequently as possible. Mostly to Sveta.
58. The last person you held hands with?
Sveta, definitely, although I can't remember the exact circumstances. I don't hold hands with Mike or Dad.
59. What are you wearing?
Cotton bikini bottoms, in blue and pink stripes. Aside from that, sweet fuck all.
60. What is your favorite animal?
I like dogs and have known many fine dogs, but I love cats.
61. Where was your favorite picture taken at?
I don't have a favorite picture; despite my desire for exhibitionism on the blog, I actually hate personal photos.
62. Can you hula hoop?
I lack the coordination.
63. Do you have a job?
Yes, such as it is.
64. What was the most recent thing you bought?
A DVD.
65. Have you ever crawled through a window?
Yes, I used to live on the ground floor in my dorm and I would always go in and out the window. It's fun.
Now, that was long, and the only way I can keep from having to do things like this when I have nothing more interesting to do is for people to ask me more interesting questions. I'm very approachable. The more specific, the better, because I'll be honest, I'm not going to answer a question like, "What's sex like for you?" unless I really feel up to it. I am happy to try to direct you to the answer if I've already answered a question, though.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Random Sexiness
Recently there hasn't been a whole lot to post about simply because I've had work, Sveta's had work, Dad's had work, and Mike has gone off gallivanting. Sometimes I go through periods of real diary, but right at the moment, nothing has happened which is different from what usually happens, so I'm going to talk about what usually happens because it's better than talking about nothing. Or perhaps I'm updating on the usual goings on. I don't know and I don't think anyone should care as long as I talk about something sexy.
The mosquitoes are out in force and the fact that I have bites on my breasts and inner thighs, among other things, should suggest to the Sherlock Holmes types that I've been outside in very little. "Observe the grass still caught in her long, red hair, Watson. This suggests to me that she's rolled off the towel in the heat of passion and hasn't had time to collect herself because someone, possibly the cute teenager who is still licking her lips, has been bringing her to orgasm numerous times. The game's afoot, old man." Yes, Sveta, Dad, Mom, Mike (while he was here) and I have taken advantage of a few more moderate days in the recent past to have some evening naked outdoors time.
Sveta loves to watch Mom and Dad make love. She told me it's the thing which really makes her feel like she's part of the family, more than making love with anyone herself. She really is starved for family love, poor pet. When Mom and Dad learned this, they made it a point to make love at least once while she's there whenever she comes to visit. I know, it's so hard pleasing some guests. She usually watches for a while, fingers between her legs, and then Mom asks her if she wanted Dad to finish off inside her, to which she always says yes. So she lies down next to Mom, and Dad shifts over and mounts her, and Mom holds her hand from the side while Dad spends a few minutes making sure Sveta's nice and happy, then finally fills her with his seed. It's incredibly loving, it makes her feel like a million bucks, and it makes me so ready to get fucked by anything moving that I can barely stand it.
It helped when Mike was here, because he could go after my needs while Mom, Dad, and Sveta had their group. Now that he's not, I don't generally get any penetration during these events, but I get to eat cum out of Sveta and she gets me off with her tongue, which has become skillful enough to please pretty much any critic at this point. I remember when she was just starting out, and it's like she's taken to it like a fish to water.
We've also been employing toys now that Mike's not here because Sveta and I can't both get Dad, not most times. We were actually out back in the shade the other day, ass to ass, with a double dil snaked between us, backing into one another and giggling until the pressure got too much and we had to move to more comfortable positions so we could hold each other and well and truly make love, rather than just fooling around. Sveta has also tried out some DP with toys, and she says when Mike comes back, she's going to give the main event another try. I told her she didn't have to if she didn't want to, but she wants to, believe me. I don't know if it will go any better than the first time, but she's a trooper and wants to see what all the fuss I make is about, and I can't refuse her much of anything.
She has been enjoying my favorite underused erogenous zone. I'll get a vibe into one hole and my fingers into the other and press the two together. I can't get her to cum just by doing that, but when I get her really riled up by doing it and then plant a kiss on her clit, she explodes. I had her up on a pillow, back arched, legs spread wide, and I was teasing her by vibrating her middle wall, and I felt bad eventually and kissed her, and she got so wet that the pillow was pretty much ruined for anything but sex. It still smells like her; I haven't washed it, I just smell it sometimes. Maybe that's a little creepy. Maybe not. I'm not stealing her panties, at least not to display or sell on eBay (I do steal them to wear them sometimes, but that's different).
I got an embarrassment of riches in the DP department while Mike was here, actually. I'm almost sated, although each day that goes by without my level of satiety lessens. Sveta once stopped us in mid-sandwich, gave all three of us a kiss, then went back and stroked Dad's and Mike's balls until they begged her to stop and let them finish up. They both lasted two or three strokes after that, and then they both just pressed in and fired. It was really intense, the best simultaneous DP orgasm I've ever had (not that I've had that many; it's a very rare thing for me). It never happened again, which is probably just as well because I doubt it could have beaten the first time if we all knew what was coming, so to speak.
Speaking of anal, Mike has had a number of toys inserted, although he gets cutely shy about it when Sveta's around, like she's going to judge him or something. I told him to stop being such an asshat and let her watch, and the second time I handled the dildo in his ass while he handled the cock in hers, then pulled out (what he was thinking I don't know, stupid boy) and splattered her. It was a geyser. Ridiculous, and if he'd just kept it inside, she would have loved it. I'm going to force him to cum in her while I'm playing with his ass as soon as he gets back. It must be so hard being him.
So, that's pretty much what's happened recently; some fairly normal sexual happiness. Other things have happened too, but because they aren't terribly interesting, I've ignored them for the purposes of chronicling the sex. Trust me, you don't want to hear about my daily life. It's pretty boring on the whole.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Flash Fiction Friday - Confection Connection
didn't stop to think just dove in tongue out and she's writhing under me dark candied bliss going to make it last like the licks on a tootsie pop closer and closer and down and down and she's screaming it or is it me breath in breath out she's melting a feast for the senses and closer and closer and down and down and there's her candy center waiting
Got all stream-of-consciousness on that one. To make up for it, please accept the following:
She came home to find me covered in chocolate sauce. "Rough day at the office?" I asked.
"Rough day loafing?" she said, grinning. "The computers broke down again, and now we're having to count everyone by hand."
"Poor dear. Well, I've prepared you something special. A feast for the census, you might say." That's when she threw the ice cream spoon at me. Even the sexiest puns hurt sometimes.
Yeah, I couldn't resist. Either of them. It's hard to resist chocolate. How can you resist? Go, now, Flash Fiction Friday is waiting, calling you sweetly, its siren song of procrastination and clever verbiage vibrating through your entire being. It is waiting. It hungers for you. Flash Fiction Friday. Flash Fiction Friday. Flash Fiction Friday. I wish I could make this 69 words too, like the others. Oh, wait...
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
In Keeping With Friday
Reading all the Flash Fiction Friday entries (and why isn't yours among them, by the way? I bet you'd write a great one) made me wish like hell it was raining, because rain naked is terrific, and rain sex is even better. It has to be the right kind of rain; it can't be cold or super-hard, but it should be more than just a light mist.
I am not the outdoorsy type, and on hot days, I stay inside with the windows closed, the AC running at full capacity, and probably the curtains drawn. I am not a sun-worshiper as has no doubt been made plain previously. But on a rainy day in summer, I'll toss off all my kit and caboodle and head out to the backyard and dance around in it. Sometimes I put on a long t-shirt with nothing under it because I just like getting that wet too, feeling it stick to me. I really don't do it for exhibition, but I'm sure anyone who sees me would appreciate it.
Once when I was a teenager I was walking home and the skies opened up and just started pouring down on me, and I wasn't anywhere where I could hide, so I just shrugged and kept walking. By the time I got home, it was obvious that I wasn't wearing anything under my dress, which wasn't exactly the most chaste number when dry, and when wet became several sheets of tissue paper. The thing about walking in the rain is that rain is an excellent concealer; either no one is out walking around to see you, or if they're looking from inside, rain tends to blur things. But when I got home and was about to strip off my wet things, Dad begged me to keep the dress on, we went out back, and he spent half an hour kissing and stroking every square, rain-soaked inch of me without once going near his cock.
The feel of his tongue through the fabric of my dress was intense, particularly on my nipples, which were sensitive in the extreme. We have a few deck chairs (no deck but the chairs come in handy) and he had me lying back in one of them, feeling the rain and his tongue and fingers. He didn't take my dress off even when he got me into position and rubbed his cock up and down my body. It was like there was a barrier between his touch and mine that drove me crazy; I couldn't cum, not until he finally slipped the dress up around my waist and pressed slowly into me. Our eyes were locked, and I kept my eyes locked with his even as the spasms overtook me, even as the rest of my body was assaulted by the rain and the orgasm and his penetration. He told me I had this determined look on my face the whole time I was cumming, until he bent down and kissed me, and that suddenly released it all and I arched my back and screamed. He didn't last long either, not by his standards. But it was an intense experience, and his cum inside me felt like the rain.
A boyfriend of mine in college took me hiking when I visited his house. I was underwhelmed, because hiking and I... yeah, we're not pals. It was only a short walk really, out in the country, and it was nice because it wasn't too hot and the bugs weren't bad at all. We wound up in a clearing, fucking like wild animals up against a tree (my ass had bark impressions for days), and had just finished up when the sky began to get dark and menacing. We were far enough from anywhere that there was really no hope of getting anywhere before the storm hit, so we went into the trees and tried to tough it out for a while. But the rain wasn't letting up, and there wasn't any thunder, and we were pretty wet anyway, so finally we just decided to walk back and get wet.
There's one thing I don't like about rain, and that's when it gets your underwear wet. So I pulled mine off, somewhat to his surprise, and then decided that if my shirt was going to get wet, I wanted to be bra-less as well, so I pulled off my shirt and bra and then decided not to put the shirt back on. He laughed and pulled his shirt off too, then asked if this meant we were going to hike naked. So we did. We put all our clothing into a backpack which we hoped might be vaguely waterproof, then clad in nothing but our shoes and socks we walked through the rain for about 10 feet before we made it back to the clearing, whereupon we promptly dropped everything and had another hard fuck fetched up against the same tree as the first time. As we were about halfway through (I don't know what "halfway through" a fuck means, really, but it seemed like it was somewhere in the middle, before the end but after the beginning) the skies miraculously cleared.
Of course, in tossing aside our clothes, we'd managed to get them all wet despite the backpack, so once we finished fucking, we had to walk back wearing dripping wet clothing. It dried off somewhat, but I was still damp by the time we made it back to civilization (I make it sound as if we were in the wilds of the Outback, when really all it was was an hour into the woods and back). It was no struggle getting me out of my clothes a second time when we arrived at his house, and we dried each other off via friction, then towels, in that order.
So yes, I love me some summer rain, for sheer joyful nakedness, for fucking, for keeping me inside looking out too. I like a dreary rainy day, where I can look out at the world and feel like I've got nowhere to be. Same with snow. But neither of those things happens all that often anymore. Still, if it rains the right way soon (and for the farmers' sakes I hope so) I may take Sveta out for a little rainy day activity of our own.
This is recollections because not all that much interesting has been happening around here, although I do plan something in the near future, so keep your eyes peeled for that. If you can count, you might know why I have things planned. If not, well, you'll find out when it happens.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Flash Fiction Friday - Two-fer
Two this week because they're both so short and because I wanted to write a poem.
Foreplay
Thunder and a sudden rain storm, or was that her heart and loins? She could feel every wet inch of him through his clothing, crouching, grinding her heat to his, her lips to his. They were driven, beaten, hammered by the pouring drops, everything falling together, the blood running fiercely through them, and drenched in the sky that kept crashing down around them and upon them. Make the rain last, she prayed, as they slid down the embankment into the mud, uncaring. Make it last.
Erosion
the sky is a smith
shaping with rain
like wrought metal
driven
beaten
hammered
showing every shining tool mark
did they emerge from the earth
under the sculptor's tools
or are they imperfections
soon to wash away
too much movement for static sculpture
too still to be dancing
Two. Because I'm carrying your dead weight, all you people who don't do Flash Fiction Friday. Don't you feel even the slightest bit guilty that you're not participating? For all those people who are participating, you're like unto gods with your mad skillz and I have no hope of eclipsing your talent.
Not too weird this week; just a bit of my blacksmith fetish creeping into the second one. I hope everyone else's are much more inventive.
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